CHAPTER I

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THE YOUTH OF GOETHE

BY P. HUME BROWN, LL.D., F.B.A.

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.

1913

TO

THE VISCOUNT HALDANE OF CLOAN, LORD CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN.

MY DEAR CHANCELLOR,--AS THE "ONLY BEGETTER" OF THIS BOOK, IT SEEMS

ALMOST OBLIGATORY THAT IT SHOULD BE ASSOCIATED WITH YOUR NAME.

THE AUTHOR.

_GOETHE'S BIOGRAPHIE._

"Anfangs ist es ein Punkt der leise zum Kreise sich öffnet,

Aber, wachsend, umfasst dieser am Ende die Welt."

FRIEDRICH HEBBEL.

"In the beginning a point that soft to the circle expandeth,

But the circle at length, growing, enclaspeth the world."

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

EARLY YEARS IN FRANKFORT

1749--1765

PAGE

GOETHE'S BIRTHPLACE AND ITS INFLUENCE ON HIM 1

PERIOD OF HIS BIRTH 4

HIS FATHER 6

HIS MOTHER 8

HIS SISTER 10

FAMILY FRIENDS 11

HIS EDUCATION 12

RELIGIOUS INFLUENCES 14

THE _SEVEN YEARS' WAR_ 18

FRENCH OCCUPATION OF FRANKFORT 19

GOETHE'S FIRST LOVE 21

DESTINED FOR THE STUDY OF LAW 23

THE BOY THE FATHER OF THE MAN 25

HIS CHARACTER AND EARLY TASTES 27

CHAPTER II

STUDENT IN LEIPZIG

OCTOBER, 1765--SEPTEMBER, 1768

GOES TO LEIPZIG 29

HIS WILD LIFE THERE 29

SOCIETY OF LEIPZIG 31

HIS IRREGULAR STUDIES 33

ADOPTS LEIPZIG FASHIONS 35

FEMININE INFLUENCES 36

DANDYISM 37

FALLS IN LOVE WITH KÄTHCHEN SCHÖNKOPF 38

FRIENDSHIP WITH BEHRISCH 39

HIS RELATIONS TO KÄTHCHEN 40

MISCELLANEOUS INTERESTS 44

FRIENDSHIP WITH OESER 46

STATE OF GERMAN LITERATURE 48

POEMS OF THE PERIOD 49

_DIE LAUNE DES VERLIEBTEN_ 51

_DIE MITSCHULDIGEN_ 52

INSPIRATION 54

CHAPTER III

AT HOME IN FRANKFORT

SEPTEMBER, 1768--APRIL, 1770

RETURNS TO FRANKFORT 57

HIS BROKEN HEALTH 58

RELATIONS TO HIS FATHER 58

HIS SISTER 60

INTEREST IN RELIGION 61

FRIENDSHIP WITH FRÄULEIN VON KLETTENBERG 62

A MYSTERIOUS MEDICINE 63

EVOLVES A RELIGIOUS CREED 65

INFLUENCE OF FRÄULEIN VON KLETTENBERG 66

INTEREST IN LITERATURE AND ART 67

LESSING AND WIELAND 70

RIPENING POWERS 71

CHAPTER IV

GOETHE IN STRASSBURG

APRIL, 1770--AUGUST, 1771

SETTLEMENT IN STRASSBURG 75

INFLUENCES OF STRASSBURG 75

CHANGE IN HIS RELIGIOUS FEELINGS 76

MANNER OF LIFE IN STRASSBURG 78

FRIENDSHIP WITH DR. SALZMANN 79

RELATIONS TO JUNG STILLING 83

COMES UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF HERDER 84

YOUNG'S _CONJECTURES ON ORIGINAL COMPOSITION_ 90

ITS INFLUENCE ON GOETHE'S GENIUS 93

FRIEDERIKE BRION 95

HIS RELATIONS TO HER 96

PARTING FROM HER 101

MISCELLANEOUS STUDIES 102

SELF-DISCIPLINE 103

POEMS ADDRESSED TO FRIEDERIKE 105

CHAPTER V

FRANKFORT--_GÖTZ VON BERLICHINGEN_

AUGUST, 1771--DECEMBER, 1771

GOETHE'S RETURN TO FRANKFORT 108

CREATIVE PRODUCTIVENESS OF THE PERIOD 108

POET OR ARTIST? 111

MENTAL CONFLICT 112

EPOCHS IN HIS LAST FRANKFORT YEARS 113

HIS SISTER CORNELIA 116

GROWING DISTASTE FOR FRANKFORT 117

DEPRESSION 119

WORSHIP OF SHAKESPEARE 120

_GÖTZ VON BERLICHINGEN_ 121

ITS INFLUENCE ON EUROPEAN LITERATURE 131

CHAPTER VI

INFLUENCE OF MERCK AND THE DARMSTADT CIRCLE

1772

FRIENDSHIP WITH MERCK 133

CHARACTER OF MERCK 133

HIS INFLUENCE ON GOETHE 135

THE DARMSTADT CIRCLE 136

ITS INFLUENCE ON GOETHE 136

CAROLINE FLACHSLAND AND GOETHE 137

POEMS OF GOETHE INSPIRED BY THE

DARMSTADT CIRCLE 138

_WANDERERS STURMLIED_ 139

_DER WANDERER_ 141

CHAPTER VII

WETZLAR AND CHARLOTTE BUFF

MAY--SEPTEMBER, 1772

DEPARTURE FROM WETZLAR 143

WETZLAR AND ITS SOCIETY 144

LOTTE BUFF 147

GOETHE'S RELATIONS TO HER 147

KESTNER, LOTTE'S BETROTHED 148

GOETHE, KESTNER, AND LOTTE 149

DEPARTURE FROM WETZLAR 150

KESTNER'S CHARACTERISATION OF GOETHE 151

CHAPTER VIII

AFTER WETZLAR

1772--1773

SUICIDE OF JERUSALEM 154

GOETHE VISITS THE FAMILY VON LA ROCHE 155

FRAU VON LA ROCHE 155

MAXIMILIANE VON LA ROCHE 157

UNREST 158

LETTERS TO KESTNER 159

ESTRANGEMENT FROM HIS FATHER 161

SOLITUDE 162

CHAPTER IX

SATIRICAL DRAMAS AND FRAGMENTS

POET OR ARTIST? 163

LITERARY ACTIVITY 164

_FRANKFURTER GELEHRTEN ANZEIGEN_ 165

_LETTER OF THE PASTOR_ 166

_TWO BIBLICAL QUESTIONS_ 167

RECASTS _GÖTZ VON BERLICHINGEN_ 167

SATIRICAL PLAYS 169

_PROMETHEUS_ 175

_MAHOMET_ 181

_ADLER UND TAUBE_ 183

_KÜNSTLERS ERDEWALLEN_ 184

CHAPTER X

_WERTHER_--_CLAVIGO_

1774

GOETHE'S NEED OF EXTERNAL STIMULUS 185

GOETHE AND THE BRENTANOS 186

ORIGIN OF _WERTHER_ 187

ENGLISH INFLUENCE ON _WERTHER_ 188

PUBLICATION OF _WERTHER_ 189

GOETHE AND WERTHER 190

SECOND PART OF _WERTHER_ 191

WERTHER AND GOETHE 193

INFLUENCE OF _WERTHER_ 196

THE KESTNERS AND _WERTHER_ 198

WERTHERISM 199

_CLAVIGO_ 200

DRAMATISED FROM BEAUMARCHAIS 200

ORIGIN OF _CLAVIGO_ 202

ITS PLOT 202

CONSTRUCTED ON CLASSICAL MODELS 205

_CLAVIGO_ AND GOETHE 206

CHAPTER XI

GOETHE AND SPINOZA--_DER EWIGE JUDE_

1773--1774

GOETHE'S DEBT TO SPINOZA 209

MISDATES SPINOZA'S INFLUENCE 210

_DER EWIGE JUDE_ 212

ORIGINAL PLAN OF IT 213

AS IT WAS ACTUALLY WRITTEN 216

ITS DIVISIONS 216

ITS CHARACTERISTICS 216

UNPUBLISHED TILL AFTER GOETHE'S DEATH 218

CHAPTER XII

GOETHE IN SOCIETY

1774

JOHANN KASPAR LAVATER 220

HIS CHARACTER 220

HIS INTEREST IN GOETHE 222

VISITS FRANKFORT 224

HIS INTERCOURSE WITH GOETHE 225

JOHANN BERNHARD BASEDOW 227

HIS CHARACTER AND CAREER 227

HIS VISIT TO FRANKFORT 228

GOETHE, LAVATER, AND BASEDOW AT EMS 228

THEIR VOYAGE DOWN THE RHINE 230

JUNG STILLING 231

SCENE AT ELBERFELDT 232

FRITZ JACOBI 233

GOETHE MAKES HIS ACQUAINTANCE 233

THEIR INTERCOURSE 234

JACOBI'S ESTIMATE OF GOETHE 237

KLOPSTOCK 238

GOETHE'S ADMIRATION OF HIM 238

THEIR MEETING IN FRANKFORT 239

_AN SCHWAGER KRONOS_ 240

BOIE AND WERTHES ON GOETHE 241

MAJOR VON KNEBEL AND GOETHE 242

GOETHE AND THE PRINCES OF WEIMAR 243

VON KNEBEL ON GOETHE 244

DEATH OF FRÄULEIN VON KLETTENBERG 245

CHAPTER XIII

LILI SCHÖNEMANN

1775

THE SCHÖNEMANN FAMILY 247

GOETHE'S INTRODUCTION TO LILI SCHÖNEMANN 248

HIS SUBSEQUENT MEMORY OF HER 249

LILI COMPARED WITH HIS PREVIOUS LOVES 250

GOETHE'S SONGS ADDRESSED TO HER 251

COUNTESS STOLBERG 253

GOETHE'S RELATIONS TO HER 253

_ERWIN UND ELMIRE_ 255

_STELLA_ 257

_CLAUDINE VON VILLA BELLA_ 263

A DISTRACTED LOVER 266

BETROTHED TO LILI 268

SHRINKS FROM MARRIAGE 269

COUNTS STOLBERG IN FRANKFORT 270

GOETHE STARTS WITH THEM FOR SWITZERLAND 271

VISITS HIS SISTER AT EMMENDINGEN 273

WITH LAVATER IN ZURICH 275

ACCOMPANIES PASSAVANT TO ST. GOTHARD 276

LYRICS TO LILI 276

RETURN TO FRANKFORT 278

CHAPTER XIV

LAST MONTHS IN FRANKFORT--THE _URFAUST_

1775

RELATIONS TO LILI ON HIS RETURN 279

A CRISIS IN THEIR RELATIONS 281

MISCELLANEOUS INTERESTS 282

ESTIMATES OF GOETHE BY SULZER AND ZIMMERMANN 283

INVITATION TO WEIMAR 284

PROPOSED JOURNEY TO ITALY 285

A DELAYED MESSENGER 286

DEPARTS FOR WEIMAR 287

_EGMONT_ AND THE _URFAUST_ 287

THE _URFAUST_ 288

CHARACTERISTICS 293

PREFACE

"Generally speaking," Goethe has himself said, "the most important

period in the life of an individual is that of his development--the

period which, in my case, breaks off with the detailed narrative of

_Dichtung und Wahrheit_." In reality, as we know, there is no complete

breach at any point in the lives of either nations or individuals. But

if in the life of Goethe we are to fix upon a dividing point, it is

his departure from Frankfort and his permanent settlement in Weimar in

his twenty-seventh year. Considered externally, that change of his

surroundings is the most obvious event in his career, and for the

world at large marks its division into two well-defined periods. In

relation to his inner development his removal from Frankfort to Weimar

may also be regarded as the most important fact in his life. From the

date of his settlement in Weimar he was subjected to influences which

equally affected his character and his genius; had he continued to

make his home in Frankfort, it is probable that, both as man and

literary artist, he would have developed characteristics essentially

different from those by which the world knows him. There were later

experiences--notably his Italian journey and his intercourse with

Schiller--which profoundly influenced him, but none of these

experiences penetrated his being so permanently as the atmosphere of

Weimar, which he daily breathed for more than half a century.

As Goethe himself has said, the first twenty-six years of his life are

essentially the period of his "development." During that period we see

him as he came from Nature's hand. His words, his actions have then a

stamp of spontaneity which they gradually lost with advancing years as

the result of his social and official relations in Weimar. He has told

us that it was one of the painful conditions of his position there

that it made impossible that frank and cordial relation with others

which it was his nature to seek, and from which he had previously

derived encouragement and stimulus; as a State official, he adds, he

could be on easy terms with nobody without running the risk of a

petition for some favour which he might or might not be able to

confer.

For the portrayal of the youthful Goethe materials are even

superabundant; of no other genius of the same order, indeed, have we a

record comparable in fulness of detail for the same period of life.

And it is this abundance of information and the extraordinary

individuality to whom it relates that give specific interest to any

study of Goethe's youth. From month to month, even at times from day

to day, we can trace the growth of his character, of his opinions, of

his genius. And the testimonies of his contemporaries are unanimous as

to the unique impression he made upon them. "He will always remain to

me one of the most extraordinary apparitions of my life," wrote one;

and he expressed the opinion of all who had the discernment to

appreciate originality of gifts and character. What they found unique

in him was inspiration, passion, a zest of life, at a pressure that

foreshadowed either a remarkable career or (at times his own dread)

disaster.

It was said of Goethe in his latest years that the world would come to

believe that there had been, not one, but many Goethes; and, as we

follow him through the various stages of his youth, we receive the

same impression. It results from this manifoldness of his nature that

he defies every attempt to formulate his characteristics at any period

of his life. In the present study of him the object has been to let

his own words and actions speak for themselves; any conclusions that

may be suggested, the reader will thus have it in his own power to

check.

After Goethe's own writings, the works to which I have been chiefly

indebted are _Goethes Gespräche, Gesamtausgabe von Freiherrn v.

Biedermann_, Leipzig, 1909-11 (5 vols.), in which are collected

references to Goethe by his contemporaries; and _Der junge Goethe:

Neue Ausgabe in sechs Bänden, besorgt von Max Morris_, Leipzig,

1910-12, containing the literary and artistic productions of Goethe

previous to his settlement in Weimar. The references throughout are to

the Weimar edition of Goethe's works. Except where otherwise

indicated, the author is responsible for the translations, both in

prose and verse.

I have cordially to express my gratitude to Dr. G. Schaaffs, Lecturer

in German in the University of St. Andrews, and to Mr. Frank C.

Nicholson, Librarian in the University of Edinburgh, for the trouble

they took in revising my proofs.

P.H.B.

Edinburgh.

THE YOUTH OF GOETHE

CHAPTER I

EARLY YEARS IN FRANKFORT

1749--1765

In his seventy-fifth year Goethe remarked to his secretary, Eckermann,

that he had always been regarded as one of fortune's chiefest

favourites, and he admitted the general truth of the impression,

though with significant reserves. "In truth," he added, "there has

been nothing but toil and trouble, and I can affirm that throughout my

seventy-five years I have not had a month's real freedom from

care."[1] Goethe's biographers are generally agreed that his good

fortune began with his birth, and that the circumstances of his

childhood and boyhood were eminently favourable for his future

development. Yet Goethe himself apparently did not, in his reserves,

make an exception even in favour of these early years; and, as we

shall see, we have other evidence from his own hand that these years

were not years of unmingled happiness and of entirely auspicious

augury.

[Footnote 1: _Gespräche mit Eckermann_, January 27th, 1824.]

In one circumstance, at least, Goethe appears to have considered

himself well treated by destiny. From the vivid and sympathetic

description he has given of his native city of Frankfort-on-the-Main

we may infer that he considered himself fortunate in the place of his

birth.[2] It is concurrent testimony that, at the date of Goethe's

birth, no German city could have offered greater advantages for the

early discipline of one who was to be Germany's national poet. Its

situation was central, standing as it did on the border line between

North and South Germany. No German city had a more impressive historic

past, the memorials of which were visible in imposing architectural

remains, in customs, and institutions. It was in Frankfort that for

generations the German Emperors had received their crowns; and the

spectacle of one of these ceremonies remained a vivid memory in

Goethe's mind throughout his long life. For the man Goethe the actual

present counted for more than the most venerable past;[3] and, as a

boy, he saw in Frankfort not only the reminders of former

generations, but the bustling activities of a modern society. The

spring and autumn fairs brought traders from all parts of Germany and

from the neighbouring countries; and ships from every part of the

globe deposited their miscellaneous cargoes on the banks of the river

Main. In the town itself there were sights fitted to stir youthful

imagination; and the surrounding country presented a prospect of

richness and variety in striking contrast to the tame environs of

Goethe's future home in Weimar. Dr. Arnold used to say that he knew

from his pupils' essays whether they had seen London or the sea,

because the sight of either of these objects seemed to suggest a new

measure of things. Frankfort, with its 30,000 inhabitants, with its

past memories and its bustling present, was at least on a sufficient

scale to suggest the conception of a great society developing its life

under modern conditions. For Goethe, who was to pass most of his days

in a town of some 7,000 inhabitants, and to whom no form of human

activity was indifferent, it was a fortunate destiny that he did not,

like Herder, pass his most receptive years in a petty village remote

from the movements of the great world.[4] In these years he was able

to accumulate a store of observations and experiences which laid a

solid foundation for all his future thinking.

[Footnote 2: In 1792, on the occasion of his being offered the honour

of _Rathsherr_ (town-councillor) in Frankfort, he wrote to his mother

that "it was an honour, not only in the eyes of Europe, but of the

whole world, to have been a citizen of Frankfort." (Goethe to his

mother, December 24th, 1792). So, in 1824, he told Bettina von Arnim

that, had he had the choice of his birthplace, he would have chosen

Frankfort. As we shall see, Goethe did not always speak so favourably

of Frankfort.]

[Footnote 3:

Die Abgeschiednen betracht' ich gern,

Stünd' ihr Verdienst auch noch so fern;

Doch mit den edlen lebendigen Neuen

Mag ich wetteifernd mich lieber freuen.]

[Footnote 4: In his later years Goethe preferred life in a small town.

"Zwar ist es meiner Natur gemäss, an einem kleinen Orte zu leben."

(Goethe to Zelter, December 16th, 1804.)]

If Goethe was fortunate in the place of his birth, was he equally

fortunate in its date (1749)? He has himself given the most explicit

of answers to the question. In a remarkable paper, written at the age

of forty-six, he has described the conditions under which he and his

contemporaries produced their works in the different departments of

literature. The paper had been called forth by a violent and coarse

attack, which he described as _literarischer Sansculottismus_, on the

writers of the period, and with a testiness unusual with him he took

up their defence. Under what conditions, he asks, do classical writers

appear? Only, he answers, when they are members of a great nation and

when great events are moving that nation at a period in its history

when a high state of culture has been reached by the body of its

people. Only then can the writer be adequately inspired and find to

his hand the materials requisite to the production of works of

permanent value. But, at the epoch when he and his contemporaries

entered on their career, none of these conditions existed. There was

no German nation, there was no standard of taste, no educated public

opinion, no recognised models for imitation; and in these

circumstances Goethe finds the explanation of the shortcomings of the

generation of writers to which he belonged.

On the truth of these conclusions Goethe's adventures as a literary

artist are the all-sufficient commentary. From first to last he was

in search of adequate literary forms and of worthy subjects; and, as

he himself admits, he not unfrequently went astray in the quest. On

his own word, therefore, we may take it that under other conditions he

might have produced more perfect works than he has actually given us.

Yet the world has had its compensations from those hampering

conditions under which his creative powers were exercised. In the very

attempt to grope his way to the most expressive forms of artistic

presentation all the resources of his mind found their fullest play.

It is in the variety of his literary product, unparalleled in the case

of any other poet, that lies its inexhaustible interest; between _Götz

von Berlichingen_ and the Second Part of _Faust_ what a range of

themes and forms does he present for his readers' appreciation! And to

the anarchy of taste and judgment that prevailed when Goethe began his

literary career we in great measure owe another product of his

manifold activities. He has been denied a place in the very first rank

of poets, but by the best judges he is regarded as the greatest master

of literary and artistic criticism. But, had he found fixed and

acknowledged standards in German national literature and art, there

would have been less occasion for his searching scrutiny of the

principles which determine all art and literature. As it was, he was

led from the first to direct his thoughts to the consideration of

these principles; and the result is a body of reflections, marking

every stage of his own development, on life, literature, and art,

which, in the opinion of critics like Edmond Scherer and Matthew

Arnold, gave him his highest claim to the consideration of posterity.

As human lot goes, Goethe was fortunate in his home and his home

relations, though in the case of both there were disadvantages which

left their mark on him throughout his later life. He was born in the

middle-class, the position which, according to Schiller, is most

favourable for viewing mankind as a whole, and, therefore,

advantageous for a poet who, like Goethe, was open to universal

impressions. Though his maternal grandfather was chief magistrate of

Frankfort, and his father was an Imperial Councillor, the family did

not belong to the _élite_ of the city; Goethe, brilliant youth of

genius though he was, was not regarded as an eligible match for the

daughter of a Frankfort banker. It was the father who was the

dominating figure in the home life of the family; and the relations

between father and son emphasise the fact that the early influences

under which the son grew up left something to be desired. Their

permanent mutual attitude was misunderstanding, resulting from

imperfect sympathy. "If"--so wrote Goethe in his sixty-fourth year

regarding his father and himself--"if, on his part as well as on the

son's, a suggestion of mutual understanding had entered into our

relationship, much might have been spared to us both. But that was not

to be!" It is with dutiful respect but with no touch of filial

affection that Goethe has drawn his father's portrait in _Dichtung und

Wahrheit_. As the father is there depicted, he is the embodiment of

Goethe's own definition of a Philistine--one naturally incapable of

entering into the views of other people.[5] Yet Goethe might have had

a worse parent; for, according to his lights, the father spared no

pains to make his son an ornament of his generation. Strictly

conscientious, methodical, with a genuine love of art and letters, he

did his best to furnish his son with every accomplishment requisite to

distinction in the walk of life for which he destined him--the

profession of law, in which he had himself failed through the defects

of his temperament. Directly and indirectly, he himself took in hand

his son's instruction, but without appreciation or consideration of

the affinities of a mind with precociously developed instincts. The

natural result of the father's pedantic solicitude was that his son

came to see in him the schoolmaster rather than the parent. Knowledge

in abundance was conveyed, but of the moulding influence of parental

sympathy there was none. What dubious consequences followed from these

relations of father and son we shall afterwards see.

[Footnote 5: To Chancellor von Müller Goethe said: "Mein Vater war ein

tüchtiger Mann, aber freilich fehlte ihm Gewandtheit und Beweglichkeit

des Geistes."]

Goethe's mother has found a place in German hearts which is partly due

to the portrait which her son has drawn of her, but still more to the

impression conveyed by her own recorded sayings and correspondence.

Goethe's tone, when he speaks of his father, is always cool and

critical; of his mother, on the other hand, he speaks with the

feelings of a grateful son, conscious of the deep debt he owed to

her.[6] His relations to her in his later years have exposed him to

severe animadversion, but their mutual relations in these early years

present the most attractive chapter in the record of his private life.

Married at the age of seventeen to a husband approaching forty, the

mother, as she herself said, stood rather as an elder sister than as a

parent to her children. And her own character made this relation a

natural one. An overflowing vitality, a lively and never-failing

interest in all the details of daily life, and a temperament

responsive to every call, kept her perennially young, and fitted her

to be the companion of her children rather than the sober helpmate of

such a husband as Herr Goethe.[7] How, by her faculty of

story-telling, she ministered to the side of her son's nature which he

had inherited from herself Goethe has related with grateful

appreciation. But he owed her a larger debt. It was her spirit

pervading the household that brought such happiness into his early

home life as fell to his lot. A commonplace mother and a prosaic

father would have created an atmosphere which, in the case of a child

with Goethe's impressionable nature, would permanently have affected

his outlook on life. For the future poet, the mother was the admirable

nurse; she fed his fancy with her own; she taught him the art of

making the most of life--a lesson which he never forgot; and she gave

him her own sane and cheerful view of the uncontrollable element in

human destiny. For the future man, however, we may doubt whether she

was the best of mothers. Her education was meagre--a defect which her

conscientious husband did his best to amend; and all her

characteristics were fitted rather to evoke affection than to inspire

respect. Though her son always speaks of her with tender regard, his

tone is that of an elder brother to a sister rather than of a son to a

parent. She was herself conscious of her incompetence to discharge all

the responsibilities of a mother which the character of the father

made specially onerous. "We were young together," she said of herself

and her son, and she confessed frankly that "she could educate no

child." Thus between an unsympathetic father and a mother incapable of

influencing the deeper springs of character, Goethe passed through

childhood and boyhood without the discipline of temper and will which

only the home can give. And the lack of this discipline is traceable

in all his actions till he had reached middle life. Wayward and

impulsive by nature, he yielded to every motive, whether prompted by

the intellect or the heart, with an abandonment which struck his

friends as the leading trait of his character. "Goethe," wrote one of

them, "only follows his last notion, without troubling himself as to

consequences," and of himself, when he was past his thirtieth year, he

said that he was "as much a child as ever."

[Footnote 6: Writing to her grandchild, Goethe's mother says: "Dein

lieber Vater hat mir nie Kummer oder Verdruss verursacht."]

[Footnote 7: When the son of Frau von Stein was about to visit her,

Goethe wrote: "Da sie nicht so ernsthaft ist wie ich, so wirst du dich

besser bei ihr befinden."]

There was another member of the family of whom Goethe speaks with even

warmer feeling than of his mother. This was his sister Cornelia, a

year younger than himself, and destined to an unhappy marriage and an

early death. Of the many portraits he has drawn in his Autobiography,

none is touched with a tenderer hand and with subtler sympathy than

that of Cornelia. Goethe does not imply that she permanently

influenced his future development; for such influence she possessed

neither the force of mind nor of character.[8] But to her even more

than to the mother he came to owe such home happiness as he enjoyed in

the hours of freedom from the father's pedagogic discipline. She was

his companion alike in his daily school tasks and his self-sought

pleasures--the confidant and sharer of all his boyish troubles. To no

other person throughout his long life did Goethe ever stand in

relations which give such a favourable impression of his heart as his

relation with Cornelia. The memory of her was the dearest which he

retained of his early days; and the words in which he recalls her in

his old age prove that she was an abiding memory to the end.

[Footnote 8: Goethe's letters addressed to Cornelia from Leipzig, when

he was in his eighteenth year, are in the tone at once of an

affectionate brother and of a schoolmaster. Their subsequent relations

to each other will appear in the sequel.]

It was an advantage on which Goethe lays special stress that, outside

his somewhat cramping home circle, he had a more or less intimate

acquaintance with a number of persons, who by their different

characters and accomplishments made lasting impressions on his

youthful mind. The impressions must have been deep, since, writing in

advanced age, he describes their personal appearance and their

different idiosyncrasies with a minuteness which is at the same time a

remarkable testimony to his precocious powers of observation. What is

interesting in these intimacies as throwing light on Goethe's early

characteristics is, that all these persons were of mature age, and all

of them more or less eccentric in their habits and ways of thinking.

"Even in God I discover defects," was the remark of one of them to his

youthful listener--to whom he had been communicating his views on the

world in general. In the company of these elders, with such or kindred

opinions, Goethe was early familiarised with the variability of human

judgments on fundamental questions. And he laid the experience to

heart, for on no point in the conduct of life does he insist with

greater emphasis than the folly of expecting others to think as

ourselves.

The method of Goethe's education was not such as to compensate for the

lack of moral discipline which has already been noted. With the

exception of a brief interval, he received instruction at home, either

directly from his father or from tutors under his superintendence.

Thus he missed both the steady drill of school life and the influence

of companions of his own age which might have made him more of a boy

and less of a premature man.[9] It is Goethe's own expressed opinion

that the object of education should be to foster tastes rather than to

communicate knowledge. In this object, at least, his own education was

perfectly successful; for the tastes which he acquired under his

father's roof remained with him to the end. What strikes us in his

course of study is its desultoriness and its comprehensiveness. At one

time and another he gained an acquaintance with English, French,

Italian, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. He read widely in history, secular

and sacred, and in the later stage of his early studies he took up law

at the express desire of his father. It was the aim of his father's

scheme of education that accomplishments should form an essential part

of it. So his son was taught music, drawing, dancing, riding, and

fencing. But there was another side to Goethe's early training which,

in his case, deserves to be specially emphasised. A striking

characteristic of Goethe's writings is the knowledge they display of

the whole range of the manual arts, and this knowledge he owed to the

circumstances of his home. His father, a virtuoso with the means of

gratifying his tastes, freely employed artists of all kinds to execute

designs of his own conception; and, as part of his son's education,

entrusted him with the superintendence of his commissions. Thus, in

accordance with modern ideas, were combined in Goethe's training the

practical and the theoretical--a combination which is the

distinguishing characteristic of his productive activity. Generally

considered, we see that the course of his studies was such as in any

circumstances he would himself have probably followed. Under no

conditions would Goethe have been content to restrict himself to a

narrow field of study and to give the necessary application for its

complete mastery. As it was, the multiplicity of his studies supplied

the foundation for the manifold productivity of his maturer years. In

no branch of knowledge was he ever a complete master; he devoted a

large part of his life to the study of Greek and Roman antiquity, yet

he never acquired a scholar's knowledge either of Greek or Roman

literature.[10] If on these subjects he has contributed many valuable

reflections, it was due to the insight of genius which apprehends what

passes the range of ordinary vision.

[Footnote 9: It was doubtless due to the absence of strict drill in

his youth that Goethe, as he himself tells us, never acquired the art

of punctuating his own writings.]

[Footnote 10: Goethe said of himself that he had no "grammatical

vein."]

A striking fact in Goethe's account of his early years is the emphasis

he lays on the religious side of his education. Judging from the

length at which he treats the subject, indeed, we are bound to assume

that in his own estimation religion was the most important element in

his early training, and in the case of one who came eventually to be

known as the "great Pagan" the fact is remarkable. Had he sat down to

write the narrative of these years at an earlier period of his

life--after his return, say, from his Italian journey--we may conceive

that in his then anti-Christian spirit he would have put these early

religious experiences in a somewhat different light, and would hardly

have assigned to them the same importance. But when he actually

addressed himself to tell the story of his development, he had passed

out of his anti-Christian phase, and was fully convinced of the

importance of religion in human culture. Regarding this portion of his

Autobiography, as regarding others, we may have our doubts as to how

far his record is coloured by his opinions when he wrote it. Yet,

after every reserve, there can be no question that religion engaged

both his intellect and his emotions as a boy; and the fact is

conclusive that religious instincts were not left out of his

nature.[11]

[Footnote 11: With reference to what he says of his Biblical studies

he wrote as follows to a correspondent (January 30th, 1812)

[Transcriber's Note: corrected error "1912"]: "Dass Sie meine

asiatischen Weltanfänge so freundlich aufnehmen, ist mir von grossem

Wert. Es schlingt sich die daher für mich gewonnene Kultur durch mein

ganzes Leben...."]

There was nothing in the influence of his home that was specially

fitted to awaken religious feeling or to occasion abnormal spiritual

experiences. In religion as in everything else the father was a

formalist, and such religious views as he held were those of the

_Aufklärung_, for which all forms of spiritual emotion were the folly

of unreason. Religion was a permanent and sustaining influence in the

life of Goethe's mother, but her religion consisted simply in a

cheerful acquiescence in the decrees of Providence. Of the soul's

trials and sorrows, as they are recorded in the annals of the

religious life, her nature was incapable, and she was always perfectly

at ease in Zion. By his mother, therefore, the son could not be deeply

moved to concern regarding his spiritual welfare, nor to make religion

the all-engrossing subject of his thoughts and affections. There was

one friend of the family, indeed, the Fräulein von Klettenberg (the

_Schöne Seele_ of _Wilhelm Meister_), in whom Goethe saw the exemplar

of the religious life in its more ecstatic manifestations, but her

special influence on him belongs to a later date. In accordance with

the family rule he regularly attended church, but the homilies to

which he listened were not of a nature to quicken his religious

feelings, while the doctrinal instruction he received at home he has

himself described as "nothing but a dry kind of morality." Against one

article of the creed taught him--the doctrine of original and

inherited sin--all his instincts rebelled; and the antipathy was so

compact with all his later thinking that we may readily believe that

it manifested itself thus early. If we may accept his own account of

his youthful religious experiences, he was already on the way to that

_Ur-religion_, which was his maturest profession of faith, and which

he held to be the faith of select minds in all stages of human

history. Now, as at all periods of his life, it was the beneficent

powers in nature that most deeply impressed him, and he records how in

crude childish fashion he secretly reared an altar to these powers,

though an unlucky accident in the oblation prevented him from

repeating his act of worship.

Like other children, he was quick to see the inconsistency of the

creed he was taught with the actual facts of experience. One event in

his childhood, the earthquake of Lisbon, especially struck him as a

confounding commentary on the accepted belief in the goodness of God;

and the impression was deepened when in the following summer a violent

thunder-storm played havoc with some of the most treasured books in

his father's library. In all his soul's troubles, however, Goethe,

according to his own account, found refuge in a world where

questionings of the ways of Providence had never found an entrance. In

the Old Testament, and specially in the Book of Genesis, with its

picture of patriarchal life, he found a world which by engaging his

feelings and imagination worked with tranquilising effect (_stille

Wirkung_) on his spirit, distracted by his miscellaneous studies and

his varied interests. Of all the elements that entered into his early

culture, indeed, Goethe gives the first place to the Bible. "To it,

almost alone," he expressly says, "did I owe my moral education." To

the Bible as an incomparable presentment of the national life and

development of a people, and the most precious of possessions for

human culture, Goethe bore undeviating testimony at every period of

his life. It need hardly be said that his attitude towards the Bible

was divided by an impassable gulf from the attitude of traditional

Christianity. For Goethe it was a purely human production, the

fortunate birth of a time and a race which in the nature of things can

never be paralleled. What the Churches have found in it was not for

him its inherent virtue. Even in his youth it was in its picturesque

presentation of a primitive life that he found what satisfied the

needs of his nature. The spiritual aspirations of the Psalms, the

moral indignation of the prophets, found no response in him either in

youth or manhood. His ideal of life was never that of the saints, but

it was an ideal, as his record of his early religious experience

shows, which had its roots in the nature which had been allotted him.

To certain events in his early life Goethe assigned a decisive

influence on his future development. To the gift of a set of puppets

by his grandmother he attributes his first awakened interest in the

drama; and the extraordinary detail with which Wilhelm Meister

describes his youthful absorption in the play of his puppets proves

that in his Autobiography Goethe does not lay undue stress on the

significance of the gift. To another event which occurred when he was

entering his seventh year, he ascribes the origin of an attitude of

mind which in his own opinion he did not overcome till his later

years. In 1756 broke out the Seven Years' War, in the course of which

there was a cleavage in German public opinion that disturbed the peace

of families and set the nearest relatives at bitter feud. Such was the

case in the Goethe circle--the father passionately sympathising with

Frederick; the maternal grandfather, Textor, the chief magistrate of

Frankfort, as passionately taking the side of Maria Theresa. In this

case the son's sympathies were those of his father, and in boyish

fashion he made a hero of the king of Prussia, though, as he himself

is careful to tell us, Prussia and its interests were nothing to him.

It was to the pain he felt when his hero was defamed by the supporters

of Austria that he traced that contempt of public opinion which he

notes as a characteristic of the greater part of his manhood, yet we

may doubt if any external event was needed to develop in him this

special turn of mind. As his whole manner of thinking proves, it was

neither in his character nor his genius to make a popular appeal like

a Burns or a Schiller.[12] In his old age Goethe said of himself that

he was conscious of an innate feeling of aristocracy which made him

regard himself as the peer of princes; and we need no further

explanation of his contempt of public opinion. Yet if the worship of

heroes has the moulding influence which Carlyle ascribed to it, in

Goethe's youthful admiration of Frederick this influence could not be

wanting. To the end Frederick appeared to him one of those "demonic"

personalities, who from time to time cross the world's stage, and

whose action is as incalculable as the phenomena of the natural world.

"When such an one passes to his rest, how gladly would we be silent,"

were his memorable words when the news of Frederick's death reached

him during his Italian travels, and the remark proves how deeply and

permanently Frederick's career had impressed him.

[Footnote 12: His remark to Eckermann (1828) is well known: "Meine

Sachen können nicht populär werden; wer daran denkt und dafür strebt,

ist in einem Irrthum."]

More easily realised is the direct influence on Goethe's youthful

development of another event of his boyhood. As a result of the Seven

Years' War, 7,000 French troops took possession of Frankfort in the

beginning of 1759, and occupied it for more than three years. In the

ways of a foreign soldiery at free quarters the Frankforters saw a

strange contrast to their own decorous habits of life, but the French

occupation was brought more directly home to the Goethe household. To

the disgust and indignation of the father, to whom as a worshipper of

Frederick the French were objects of detestation, their chief officer,

Count Thoranc, quartered in his own house. Goethe has told in detail

the history of this invasion of the quiet household--the never-failing

courtesy and considerateness of Thoranc, the abiding ill-humour of the

father, the reconciling offices of the mother, exercised in vain to

effect a mutual understanding between her husband and his unwelcome

guest. As for Goethe himself, devoted to Frederick though he was, the

presence of the French introduced him to a new world into which he

entered with boyish delight. With the insatiable curiosity which was

his characteristic throughout life, he threw himself into the

pleasures and avocations of the novel society. Thoranc was a

connoisseur in art, and gave frequent commissions to the artists of

the town; and Goethe, already interested in art through his father's

collections, found his opportunity in these tastes of Thoranc, who was

struck by the boy's precocity and even took hints from his

suggestions.

A theatre set up by the French was another source of pleasure and

stimulus. The sight of the pieces that were acted prompted him to

compose pieces of his own and led him to the study of the French

classical drama. In the _coulisses_, to which he was admitted by

special favour, he observed the ways of actors--an experience which

supplied the materials for the portraiture of the actor's life in

_Wilhelm Meister_. A remark which he makes in connection with the

French theatre is a significant commentary on his respective relations

to his father and mother, and indicates the atmosphere of evasion

which permanently pervaded the household. It was against the will of

his father, but with the connivance of his mother, that he paid his

visits to the theatre and cultivated the society of the actors, and it

was only by the consideration that his son's knowledge of French was

thus improved that the practical father was reconciled to the

delinquency. The direct results of his intercourse with the French

soldiery on Goethe's development were at once abiding and of high

importance. It extended his knowledge of men and the world, and, more

specifically, it gave him that interest in French culture and that

insight into the French mind which he possessed in a degree beyond any

of his contemporaries.

But the most notable experience of these early years under his

father's roof still remains to be mentioned. When he was in his

fourteenth year, Goethe fell in love--the first of the many similar

experiences which were to form the successive crises of his future

life. There can be little doubt that in his narrative of this his

first love there is to the full as much "poetry" as "truth"; but there

also can be as little doubt that all the circumstances attending it

made his first love a turning-point in his life. It is a peculiarity

of all Goethe's love adventures that between him and the successive

objects of his affections there was always some bar which made a

regular union impossible or undesirable. So it was in the case of the

girl whom he calls Gretchen, and of whom we know nothing except what

he chose to tell us. He made her acquaintance through his association

with a set of youths of questionable character whom we are surprised

to find as the chosen companions of the son of an Imperial Councillor.

Of all Goethe's loves this was the one that was accompanied by the

least pleasant complications and the most painful of disillusions.

Through his intercourse with Gretchen's intimates he was led to

recommend one of them for a municipal post in Frankfort--a post which

he did not hold long before he was found guilty of embezzlement and

defalcation. The discovery was disastrous to Goethe's relations with

Gretchen, and the disaster involved an experience of conflicting

emotions which produced a crisis in his inner life. He had been rudely

awakened to mistrust of mankind, and it was an awakening which, as he

has himself emphasised, influenced all his thinking and feeling for

many years to come. He had lived in a dream of phantasy and passion,

and he learned to the shock of his whole nature that the object of his

dreams had never at any moment regarded him otherwise than as an

interesting boy whose talents and connections made him a desirable

acquaintance. In the strained and morbid condition of his body and

mind, which was the result of his disillusion, we see an experience

which was often to be repeated in his maturer years, and which points

to elements in his nature which were ever ready to pass beyond his

control. As in the case of all his subsequent experiences of the same

nature, he finally regained self-mastery, but a revolution had been

accomplished in him as the result of the struggle. His boyhood was at

an end, and it is with the consciousness of awakened manhood that he

now looks out upon life. More than once in his future career a similar

transformation was to be repeated--a great passion followed by a new

direction of his activities, involving a saving breach with the past.

Goethe's father had determined from the beginning that his only son

should follow the profession of law, in which, as we have seen, he had

himself failed owing to his peculiarities of mind and temper. In this

determination there was no consideration of the predilections of his

son, and in this fact lay the permanent cause of their estrangement.

The father's choice of a university for his son was another

illustration of their divergent sympathies and interests. Left to his

own choice, the son would have preferred the university of Göttingen

as his place of study, but his father ruled that Leipzig, his own

university, was the proper school for the future civilian. In

connection with his departure for Leipzig Goethe makes two confessions

which are a striking commentary on the conditions of his home life in

Frankfort. He left Frankfort, he tells us, with joy as intense as that

of a prisoner who has broken through his gaol window, and finds

himself a free man. And this repugnance to his native city, as a place

where he could not expand freely, remained an abiding feeling with

him. The burgher life of Frankfort, he wrote to his mother during his

first years at Weimar, was intolerable to him, and to have made his

permanent home there would have been fatal to the fulfilment of every

ideal that gave life its value. His other confession is a still more

significant illustration of the vital lack of sympathy between father

and son. He left Frankfort, he says, with the deliberate intention of

following his own predilections and of disregarding the express wish

of his father that he should apply himself specifically to the study

of law. Only his sister Cornelia was made the confidant of his secret

intention, and apparently no attempt was made to effect even a

compromise between the aims of the father and those of the son. Plain

and direct dealing was a marked characteristic of Goethe at every

period of his life; that he should thus have deceived his father in a

matter that lay nearest his heart is therefore the final proof that

father and son were separated by a gulf which could not be bridged. As

it was, in the course of life which Goethe was to follow in Leipzig we

may detect a certain defiant heedlessness which points to an uneasy

consciousness of duty ignored.

We have it on Goethe's own word that with his departure for Leipzig

begins that self-directed development which he was to pursue with the

undeviating purpose and the wonderful result which make him the unique

figure he is in the history of the human spirit. What, we may inquire,

as he is now at the commencement of this career unparalleled, so far

as our knowledge goes, in the case of any other of the world's

greatest spirits--what were the specific characteristics, visible in

him from the first, which gave the pledge and promise of this

astonishing career? In his case, we can say with certainty, was fully

verified the adage, that the boy is father of the man. Alike in

internal and external traits we note in him as a boy characteristics

which were equally marked in the mature man. In his demeanour, he

himself tells us, there was a certain stiff dignity which excited the

ridicule of his companions. It was in his nature even as a boy, he

also tells us, to assume airs of command: one of his own acquaintance

and of his own years said of him, "We were all his lacqueys." Here we

have in anticipation the aged Goethe whose Jove-like presence put

Heine out of countenance; the god "cold, monosyllabic," of Jean Paul.

But behind the stiff demeanour, in youth as in age, there was the

mercurial temperament, the _etwas unendlich Rührendes_, which made him

a problem at all periods of his life even to those who knew him most

intimately. He has himself noted his youthful reputation for

eccentricity, "his lively, impetuous, and excitable temper"; and this

was the side of him that most impressed his associates till he was

past middle age. In boyhood, also, as even in his latest years, he was

subject to bursts of violence in which he lost all self-control. When

attacked by three of his schoolmates, he fell upon them with the fury

of a wild beast, and mastered all three. On the loss of Gretchen he

"wept and raved," and, as the result of his morbid sensibility, his

constitution, always abnormally influenced by his emotions, was

seriously impaired. Here we have the _Weiblichkeit_, the feminine

strain in his nature, which was noted by Schiller, and which explains

the shrinking from all forms of pain which he inherited from his

mother.

More than once these emotional elements in his nature were to bring

him near to moral shipwreck, and it was doubtless the consciousness of

such a possibility in his own case that explains his haunting interest

in the character and career of Byron. But underneath his "chameleon"

temperament (the expression is his own[13]) there was a solid

foundation, the lack of which was the ruin of Byron. Goethe has

himself told us what this saving element in him was. It was a

strenuousness and seriousness implanted in him by nature (_von der

Natur in mich gelegter Ernst_), which, he says, "exerted its influence

[on him] at an early age, and showed itself more distinctly in after

years." This side of his complex nature did not escape the notice even

of his youthful contemporaries. "Goethe," wrote one of them from

Leipzig, "is as great a philosopher as ever." Here again we see in the

boy the father of the man. Increasingly, as the years went on, his

innate tendency to reflection asserted itself, till at length in his

latest period it so completely dominated him that the sage proved too

much for the artist.

[Footnote 13: So Weislingen (in _Götz von Berlichingen_), whom Goethe

meant to be a double of himself, says: "_Ich bin ein Chamaeleon_."]

If the character of the boy foreshadowed that of the man, so did the

tendencies of his genius the lines they were afterwards to follow.

"Turn a man whither he will," he remarks in his Autobiography, "he

will always return to the path marked out for him by nature," and his

own development signally illustrates the truth of the remark. From his

earliest youth, he tells us, he had "a passion for investigating

natural things"; and towards middle life his interest in physical

science became so absorbing as for many years to stifle his creative

faculty. But in the retrospect of his life as a whole he had no doubt

as to the supreme bent of his genius. The "laurel crown of the poet"

was the goal of his youthful ambition, and the last bequest he made to

posterity was the Second Part of _Faust_. Among the miscellaneous

intellectual interests of his boyhood poetry evidently held the chief

place, and, partly out of his own inspiration and partly at the

suggestion of others, he diligently tried his hand at different forms

of poetical composition. Yet, if we may judge from his most notable

boyish piece--_Poetische Gedanken über die Höllenfahrt Jesu

Christi_--there have been more "timely-happy spirits" than Goethe.

Not, indeed, as we shall see, till his twentieth year, the age when,

according to Kant, the lyric poet is in fullest possession of his

genius, does his verse attain the distinctiveness of original creative

power.[14]

[Footnote 14: All Goethe's boyish productions that have been preserved

will be found in _Der junge Goethe, Neue Ausgabe in sechs Bänden

besorgt von Max Morris_, Leipzig, 1909.]

The Youth of Goethe · 第 1 / 14 章